Sour Taste of Revenge
by Pmp2a-Trish
Summary: Hannibal Heyes is confronted with the tragedy from his youth and must choose between justice and revenge.


The Sour Taste of Revenge

by Trish

Kid Curry walked cautiously to the rocking chair that sat idle on the porch of Huntingburg's lone hotel. While slowly lighting his cigar, he spoke softly to the gentleman rocking just to his left, "Horses are put up in the livery; saloon is quiet and the hotel clerk thinks there is a ranch just west of here that might be hiring some hands."

His partner and notorious ex-outlaw Hannibal Heyes, smiled, "Good. Sheriff is new to town, brought out from somewhere in east Texas, name's Sizemore."

Kid chuckled, "Sizemore? Never heard of him."

"The deputy is a young local boy. Named Parkins, we've never heard of him either. The cook at the restaurant says he's so wet behind the ears that he can barely keep his head above water. Also, one of the waitresses said that Huntingburg is typically quiet, a nice place to 'raise a family.' The only excitement they've had lately was just north of here; a group of bandits stole into a house and killed the man and his wife. Posse is out on the hunt for them now."

Kid became serious, "Sure we shouldn't be movin' on with a posse coming in?"

With a devilish grin, Heyes continued, "Don't worry Kid; this is one posse we could greet with open arms."

The two former outlaws relaxed awhile longer just rocking on the porch and enjoying the evening breeze while taking in the quiet of the small town. Just as they prepared to make their way to the restaurant for dinner they saw the tell-tale signs of an approaching posse. Even with their identities safe, their hearts stopped for just a moment at the sign of the heavily armed men. As they reared up to the hitching post outside of the sheriff's office, Kid and Heyes moved to get a slightly better view. There were seven men in the posse all armed with pistols and rifles. In the middle of the deputized men rode three others. Each of those men wore faded blue Union jackets.

Heyes sensed his partner tense at his side. "Whoa there. No need getting riled up." Heyes turned a quarter turn just to see Kid as he gripped the porch rail tightly.

"Can't help it Heyes. Somethin' in me never can forget." Kid's stare was resolute, watching as each man was brought down from his horse.

Heyes clasped his hand on Kid's shoulder, "I know partner, me too. Just don't forget, not every outlaw is a killer, and neither is every Union officer." They watched as each man was escorted inside. None of the men could be more than ten years their senior. Each had graying hair, short, and in desperate need of a wash. As the last one was moved up the steps, he turned and looked towards the hotel. His eyes were a pale blue, Heyes noted, except they weren't. They were cold, empty, almost… gray. Gray, like that of a wolverine deep in the night as it searched out it's prey; a gray that reminded him of the helpless Northern Wyoming winters; a gray that sent a shiver down Heyes' spine. Unnerved, he tried to recall why that sinking feeling was so familiar, he had felt it once before, but just could not place it.

It was Kid that finally broke the spell, "Well, I'll tell you this, whether it be Jesse, Billy or us, once someone has been stopped on a train, they lump us all together, and **that** is how I feel about them."

As they turned and went down the street, he could not deny how the Kid was feeling. Heyes had been a mere 11 years old when their home had been raided by Union soldiers. Their Mas had been life-long friends, and when they married they convinced their husbands to go into farming together; therefore, their houses sat a stones throw away from one another. The tragedy of this was that when the soldiers came and attacked the one house, they attacked them both. For years both of the men held a deep seeded resentment towards the Union army for allowing such an attack to occur. But as they aged they realized, just as they could not be held completely responsible for a rogue member of their gang, neither could the Army. With that understanding, Heyes had slowly grown past the tragedy of his youth, instead focusing on surviving the day to day travails of life as a wanted outlaw.

Inside the restaurant, they somberly ordered water and two steak dinners. Moving past the scene from outside, Kid re-ignited the conversation from earlier. "I was thinking we could go out to that ranch tomorrow; see about gettin' a couple of those jobs. The barkeep in the saloon said there are usually at least a couple hands of poker every night. And on the weekends the whole place livens up with gamin' tables. He even claims to have the prettiest girls this side of the Mississippi." With a chuckle he added, "Now, that's what I want to see."

Barely paying attention, Heyes murmured something that sounded like 'sounds good.' Lost in his own thoughts, he took a drink of the fresh water that had just been placed in front of him. Looking down he became acutely aware of the citrus fruit placed on the side of his glass. The aroma overwhelmed him momentarily. However, it was more than just the smell of a well-ripened lemon, it was something else. The smell of burning ashes and the sounds of….. he just could not place it.

Kid, oblivious to Heyes' mental wanderings, grabbed his own lemon, "You know Heyes, I can't remember the last time I had a really good glass of lemonade, you?"

Almost in a trance, he murmured, "They'll rot your teeth out."

"Nah, that's only if you eat them straight like Pa…" just then the waitress brought the steak dinners out to the two hungry outlaws. Breaking the trance, the two devoured the meal with nary another word between them.

The night passed with little fan fare. True to the barkeep's word, there were several hands of poker in the saloon. However, with a recession firmly in place, there was little money to be won. The upside of this was that there was also little money to be lost. Midway through the night, Heyes abandoned his endeavors at the table and took up a spot close to the saloon door. From this vantage point he could see the side window to the Sheriff's office. He could see the shadow that came from a man standing on the other side. His nerves still nagged at him. He tried to dismiss it to being bothered by the sight of the Union jackets, but tried as he may, he could not shake it. They'd seen ex-soldiers before and the sight had never shaken him like this. Looking across the room to his friend (who had just tried, unsuccessfully, to draw to an inside straight), he told himself he was just feeding off Kid's nerves. But if that were the case, why was he the only one still bothered? Looking down the dirt street he watched as an old dog slowly made its way up towards the saloon. As it raised its head, the full moon caught its eyes and for a moment he thought they had turned gray. Ordering one more shot to go, he downed it in a gulp and then signaled to his partner that it was time for the evening to end.

"What's going on Heyes? Why do you want to leave so early? Sam said that the girls will be down in less than an hour."

"Forget the girls, we had a long ride this morning and I'm turning in. You want to stay down here, fine, but I'm going up."

"Alright Heyes."

 _The sun was hot and bright, beating down on his back and shoulders. "Hey, that one hurt!"_

 _He laughed at the sound of his friend, "Well, if you moved as fast as you_ _ **think**_ _you can shoot…" before he could finish his sentence he lobbed another lemon at his best friend. This time, instead of ducking, his friend ran at him, knocking him to the ground. He knew he had pushed Jed just a little too far and, with each fist to his gut, felt the consequences of it. Fortunately, since he was a solid year older, he had the physical maturity to keep from suffering too many of Jed's well aimed blows. Not paying enough attention to the ground they were on, they quickly found themselves tumbling down a slight embankment, until they landed firmly in the mud pile at the bottom. Standing, Hannibal Heyes laughed at the sight of their dirty clothes. Extending a hand to his pal he exclaimed, "Your ma is going tan your hide 'til next Sunday for that."_

 _Astounded, Jed looked up and took the hand offered, "My hide! You started it!"_

 _Heyes turned and in sync they began the stroll back up the embankment. "Yeah, but I can convince your Ma that I was just trying to eat a lemon when you pushed me down the hill. Of course, being clumsy yourself, you fell down too."_

" _Oh and what if I go and convince_ _ **your**_ _ma that you wanted to start a lemon fight? Which is the truth!"_

 _Young Heyes scoffed at the idea, "Kid, you couldn't convince a starving dog to eat prime choice steak."_

 _With a shove, Jed yelled, "Don't call me kid!"_

 _As the two scuffled once more, they again fell to the ground, half in anger, half in laughter._

 _After a few moments, something caught Heyes' senses, trying to gain control of his friend, he spoke, "Stop it, kid stop!"_

" _I told you, don't call me kid!"_

" _Damnit, Jed, stop!" Jed stopped mid punch. Heyes was the first to smell it- fire. Without another word, the two ran as fast as their feet could take them. As they rounded the bend they saw it. The barn behind Jed's house was beginning to smoke. Outside the house were four horses that the boys had never seen before and a wagon that bore the unmistakable sign of the Union Army. As the Border War waged on, the Curry/Heyes farm had already been visited by both Union and Confederate Armies, but they had also heard rumors of the Union raids. Jed's pa once tried to explain to them that after a man has seen bloodshed and battle, it's a sight that's hard to get out of the body and soul. They would try to escape the war, but would end up turning to outlawry because, at that point, they didn't know any other way. Panic coursed through Heyes, he was unsure exactly what to do, but knew that_ _ **nothing**_ _wasn't an option. Turning to his younger friend he commanded, "Go to the Applewhite's. Tell them we're being raided, get help!"_

" _What about you? Come with me."_

" _No, I've got to find Sally. Just go!" With the forcefulness of his voice and a slight shove, young Jed ran off in the direction of the neighboring farm. The knowledge that at least his best friend would be safe gave Heyes the courage to move closer. Heyes darted between pieces of farm equipment as he quickly made his way inside the shed beside his house. From the light of the window he could see that it was deserted. His heart quickened and he could barely breathe as he tried to formulate a plan._ Sally was supposed to help Ma with the wash and then take a nap, _he thought_. That meant she would be in her upstairs room. _As he looked out the rear door to the shed he saw a boot lying still on the ground. It was Sir Curry's boot, but as his eyes travelled, he realized it wasn't just a boot; it was Sir Curry lying on the ground, unmoving. Suddenly a pair of shears fell behind him with a crash. He turned, only to see his seven year old sister running to greet him. Never had he been so glad to see her. He buried his face in her long brown hair, instantly smelling the same soap that he so identified with his mother. Immediately, he became aware of the sound that had been made and he pulled her towards a dark corner and crouched down, waiting to see if anyone else had heard the noise. Time seemed to stand still; however, soon enough he realized they had gone unnoticed. Grabbing Sally, he took her face in his hands and forced her to look at him, "I sent Jed down to the Applewhite's. I need you to go down there too. I'm going in for Ma."_

 _Sally's brown eyes pleaded as she cried, "No, please, I'm scared!"_

 _He took a deep breath in and mustered an air of confidence that he did not feel, "Sally, go to the Applewhite's; do not be seen and do not look back. Do you understand?"_

 _Through tears, she nodded. Walking her to the front (he did not want her to bear witness to the fate that Sir Curry had suffered), he slowly opened the door. After seeing that no one was around, he pushed her on her way and watched as she quickly retraced almost the exact steps that he had made just minutes before._

 _With her past safety's edge, Heyes slowly made his way out the back side of the shed and towards his house. The sun had already begun its slow descent on the other side of the house, so he was easily able to keep to the shadows. As he neared the kitchen door he saw someone else lying on the ground. This time he recognized it as his own father, blood continuing to pool from the wound in his back. Heyes diverted his eyes and hoped that somehow he was not too late and his mother had not yet been slain. He entered the house cautiously, and quietly followed the sounds of voices, laughter. From the den, he could see into his parent's bedroom. He could see his mother lying on the bed, her foot moving ever so slightly. She was still alive! He moved softly to where he knew his father kept his emergency pistol hidden. Quietly, he opened the drawer and removed the piece, prepared at any moment to either shoot, or to be shot._

 _In the room he heard one of the men, "There's nothing else here but rags, let's go."_

 _From within the darkened hallway he watched as the four men left the house. With expedience, he quickly ran into his parent's room. On the bed, to his horror, he saw his mother beaten and bloodied. A sheet barely covered her and blood still flowed from wounds on her chest and abdomen. Quickly, he pulled a blanket to cover her, "Mamma!"_

 _Their brown eyes met as hers filled with tears, "My baby boy." Her weak hand slowly managed to cup his face as he tried to hold back the tears, just as his father always told him he must. Softly she whispered, "Find Sally, get somewhere safe."_

 _Finally, something he could be brave about, "I did Mamma, she's at the Applewhite's with Jed. I gotta get you there too, you'll be okay." But the last bit came as more of a plea, than a statement._

" _No baby, not this time. Take care of them for me. Jed and Sally, they need you. I will_ _ **always**_ _love you." And with a smile and a tear, she slowly exhaled her dying breath._

 _Alone in the room, Heyes released the only tear that he would ever cry. With rage he held the gun and took it to the busted out window at the front of the house. He could see the men preparing to leave; they carried with them the jewelry and loot they had taken. He cocked his gun and pointed it directly at their backs, ready. One of the men turned and looked back at the house, back towards him. And in that moment, he saw his eyes. They were a pale blue, except, they weren't. They were gray, just like that of a wolverine after it has struck; a gray like a fog filled morning that would offer no sun; a gray that sent a chill down his spine. And in that moment of fear, he could not pull the trigger._

Heyes bolted upright in his bed. Looking out the window, he could tell that it must have been well past midnight. To his left, in the adjoining bed, Kid was sound asleep. Heyes' sweat-soaked long-johns stuck tight to his body. Quickly, he stood and removed the garments. He grabbed a towel from the wash basin and sponged off the sweat and the fear that covered him. Leaning over, it took all his strength not to lose his dinner in the basin. After donning a fresh pair of long-johns and his gun, he made his way to the balcony. Above the street he had a bird's eye view of the jail, and of that window. Rage washed over him, seventeen years of pent up hate. Seventeen years of attempted forgiveness and acceptance. Seventeen years of forgetting the details just to survive. Seventeen years of trying to convince Jed, Kid that hate did more damage to the hater than the hated. Seventeen years, but no more, now, Heyes had murder in his heart.

Heyes sat quietly the next morning at breakfast while Kid spoke incessantly about the previous evening. Overall, he had done well at the poker tables. He was up an easy $35, and the saloon girl he "befriended" gave him a sweetheart deal on an evening of her company. Heyes, however, sat lost in thought, only giving the customary "Uh-huh" and "Sounds good."

"But then the sheriff came over and tried to arrest me for palming several aces, when I explained that they were only kings, he backed off."

"Sounds good," Heyes murmured.

For a brief moment Kid stopped talking, then grabbed the piece of bread from Heyes' hand and threw it on the plate, "Is that so?"

Dazed, he looked down at his plate, then back up at the Kid, bewildered, "Huh, what?"

Kid leaned back in his chair. "Alright, what's eating at you? You haven't paid a lick of attention from the moment we got down here."

"Oh, sorry, just got other things on my mind." And he resumed eating his last piece of bacon.

"Such as?"

"You wanted to go out to that ranch today, right?" Kid recognized the abrupt subject change, but decided not to call him on it and merely nodded yes. "I think that's a good idea. There are a couple of prospects around town I might look into as well."

Kid was starting to get worried. They had been friends for their entire lives and had grown to know one another as well as they knew themselves. He had a feeling that Heyes was keeping something from him and did not like it. "You wouldn't want to tell me what kind of 'prospects' you're looking into to?" To lighten the mood he added, "They won't have anything to do with any railroads or banks, would they?"

Heyes turned serious, "Kid, what do you think? You think I'd blow our chance at an amnesty for a job in a one horse town like this?" At the sight of his partner's grin, he quickly realized the trap that Kid had just laid for him. And with a chuckle, he finished his juice and rose, "I spoke to the owner of the general store, they need a man to pick up and deliver supplies. They're paying $3 a day, plus tips, thought I'd look into it."

With a few more words, they both made their way out of the restaurant. Kid mounted his horse and went on his way. Heyes, however, turned to a mission much darker than hauling groceries. Standing on the porch he looked from the jail to the telegraph office. His plan had been formulated in the wee hours of the morning; now it was just an issue of setting it in motion. He knew Kid would not come back for several hours and that would give him time to at least take care of the first part of his plan. If need be, they could leave town that night if things did not go well.

Back at the hotel, he quickly changed into the only suit he owned. Before leaving the room, he went back over his plan. First, he'd go to the telegraph office; three ex-officers would certainly have sent for a military liaison to represent them. He would simply present himself as a retired military official who was taking an interest in the situation. There he would find out when the official liaison was set to arrive. Once his new identity was secured in the mind of the telegraph clerk, he would then proceed to the Sheriff's office. He was almost amused at the lack of security that the Sheriff had employed for holding three men wanted for murder; he only had one man standing armed outside the front door. The last time he and the Kid had been captured, that sheriff felt it was necessary to have two outside the front door and two on the roof. Luckily for Sheriff Sizemore, this time he was determined to get in, not out.

Down on the street, he quickly finished his task at the telegraph office with little trouble. The men **had** sent for a liaison and, with luck, he was standing there as the response from the government came through. A Sergeant Roy Thomas was due to arrive via horse in two days time, Wednesday. He thanked the clerk for the memo and then excused himself to the Sheriff's office.

Heyes walked with confidence and determination up the steps towards the door. Expectantly, the armed deputy put a hand on his arm, preventing him from going any further, "Excuse me, sir, but you can't go in there."

Heyes politely withdrew his arm from the gentleman's grasp and looked the man in the eyes and gave his best disarming smile, "My apologizes, I should have introduced myself first. My name is Sergeant Joshua Laferty; I am with the United States Army. I have come to see if I could be of some assistance to the gentlemen you have in custody."

The deputy quickly relaxed, "Oh, we didn't think you'd get here this quick."

"Well, I just happened to be in the area. I wanted to get these boys representation as quickly as possible."

"Well… alright." The deputy walked over to the door and stuck his head inside. After a moment he turned around and opened the door wide, "Go on in."

The Sheriff's office was not much different than any other one he had been in. The desk sat to the left of the room, with a safe directly behind it. Behind the desk sat the Sheriff. He was a portly man, older and bore a silver mustache.

In the middle of the room was a door that went to the cell chambers. _Good,_ he thought, _privacy._ As he walked up to the desk, Sheriff Sizemore rose and held out his hand, which Heyes quickly embraced. "Sheriff Sizemore, is it?"

"Yes, and you are… Sgt. Laferty?"

"Yes sir. I was in the area and heard about the occurrence out at the Jackson farm."

The Sheriff frowned, "Wasn't an **occurrence** , Sergeant, it was murder. Your three boys did it and I have every intention of seeing them hanged. I have two witnesses that saw a group of men in Army jackets high-tailing it away from that farm. Within two hours of the murder, we caught up with that bunch back there. We dug two bullets out of Mary and three out of Frank; all five match the guns those boys were carrying."

Heyes somberly nodded. Arguing guilt or innocence was irrelevant to him, but he knew that he had to appear convincing. "And exactly what type of weapon was that?"

"A Colt .44 six-shot revolver."

"Sir, I'm sure you realize that type of weapon came standard issue to all military personnel."

"Yes sir, but it just so happens that was the weapon used. And it just so happens that was the weapons these boys were carrying. Since they were found in the area, I believe that gives us both means and opportunity."

Not wanting to point out any of the many other flaws that he could see in the case, Heyes instead just asked. "Do you think I could speak to the boys?"

"That's fine. Just leave your hardware on the desk."

Heyes compliantly removed his gun and holster and handed it to the Sheriff, who then placed it on the corner of the desk. Without indication of any further search, they moved toward the door leading to the cells.

The cell block was pretty typical of a modern jail. Four cells, two on each side, each had a small window with bars on the outside. Each man had his own cell. To Heyes' left, a man sat on his cot, leaning his head against the wall. Across the divide, the other two men sat playing a hand of poker through the bars between them. Heyes had experienced this setup before. For some reason, it gave lawmen comfort knowing that they were separated. Little did they know, at least for the Devil's Hole gang, it provided them the advantage of having more hands at a closer range to the visitors. But for his purpose at the moment, this suited him just fine. Only one person had his attention and the fewer the witnesses, the better.

"Look alive boys, your lawyer just arrived. This is Sgt. Laferty." The Sheriff slapped Heyes on the back, "Just yell when you're ready come out." With that, he turned and left the room. Heyes flinched slightly at the sound of the door coming to a hard close and the sound of the lock clicking in place.

Not wasting time, he immediately saw the object of his attention. In the cell just to his left, the man slowly looked up. Sitting on the cot he appeared disheveled, dirty. Not wanting to be disturbed, Heyes addressed the other two, "I'll be with you boys in a minute, one at a time." With the definitive dismissal, the other two resumed their game. Heyes slowly walked to the door to the cell, "I've come to speak to you, the least you can do is stand up."

The man rose and walked towards the door. Standing about a foot away, Heyes was able to fully make note of the man's appearance. He was tall, but not as tall as he had expected. Perhaps he was only an inch or two taller than himself. The man tried to stand erect, but hunched ever so slightly. His hands hung at his hips, which was such a familiar stance, after seeing the Kid hold it for so many years. His hair had grayed and his faced lined. Then he made contact with his eyes. Even close up, they appeared more gray than blue. Behind them, Heyes could read a sense of defeat, a sense of hopelessness, and this made him smile. _This man has been broken_ , but even with this thought he knew that even an injured animal is most dangerous when it is caged.

After a moment of silence the man spoke, "I don't want your help. I was going to be a doctor when I left to fight your war. I fought that war; I killed my brethren and saw horrors of no end. And after the fighting stopped, what did you do for me? You sent me out, expecting me to just forget the life we had endured and go back to… what?" His voice was rising. "Running a store or a bank? Perhaps return to school, while pretending that I didn't still hear the sounds of gunfire when I closed my eyes! I want nothing from you." The man laughed, "Hell, you aren't even old enough to have remembered the war, how are you supposed to represent me?" The man turned to go back to his cot.

Heyes smiled, this would go even easier than he thought, "Good."

Quickly turning, the man fumed as he rushed the bars, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Heyes did not flinch; instead his eyes went from brown to black as he stepped closer to the cell. With each step forward, the man shuffled slightly back. Spoken softly so that only the two could hear, "I mean I don't give a damn about what kind of hell you went through. I don't even care about the crime you're being accused of. All I care about is watching you hang."

The man clenched and unclenched his right hand, "We didn't kill those people. We wasn't even in the area. We'd been working on a farm a half day's ride from here. The job ended so we went lookin' for more work, **that's** when the posse found us."

Heyes placed both hands on the bars to the cell, "You're not listening. I don't care about what happened yesterday."

"Then what the hell are you talking about!" He yelled.

"Kansas. Almost twenty years ago. There was a farm just this side of the Missouri border, you and your _friends_ raided it and killed two men and two women."

The man cowered at the reminder of his past, slinking back to his cot. "That… that was a lifetime ago…"

"On that, I couldn't agree more."

Beaten, he whispered, "How…how do you know?" Heyes stood, resolute, refusing to give the man even the smallest answer. "You're not from the military are you?" He smiled his darkest smile and slowly shook his head no. The man began to plea, "I've changed, back then I was a drunk, lost… The war, it was still going on and we had to go back… but what happened yesterday, we didn't do it." He rose and returned to the door. "Those men, they're good men," gesturing to the two in still playing poker in the opposing cell. "They don't deserve this."

Heyes' blood boiled as he peered deep into the man's pleading eyes. Pulling his hands back from the cell bars, "I don't care."

Returning to the saloon, Heyes ordered a whisky to steady his hands and his nerves. When the first did not do the trick, he ordered another, and then another. What he had wanted had been accomplished. The man, Jenkins, he now knew his name, knew that he would be there to watch him swing. Also, as he left the Sheriff's office he explained that he had retired from the military a few years before, and had only called on the inmates as a courtesy and that the official representative would arrive shortly. The Sheriff, a former officer himself, understood the _brotherly_ nature of the armed forces and asked no further questions. Now, he felt confident that he could stand by, watch the trial unfold and know that justice would finally be served.

He had just finished his fourth whisky when Kid entered the saloon. He was dusty/dirty, obvious signs of a hard day at a ranch. But instead of the typical scowl that usually accompanies such a day, Kid was grinning from ear to ear. Making the distance in three strides, Kid sat on the bar stool to Heyes' left and quickly ordered a beer.

Trying to put the day behind him, he simply asked, "What has you smiling like a wolf in a hen house?"

"Sarah Carter." Heyes furrowed his brows, wondering if this was a name he was supposed to remember. "Coming back into town I saw a carriage broke down on the side of the road, right beside it was this pretty little thing. So, I help fix the carriage and in return… dinner tonight."

Heyes smiled at his friend's happy turn of events, "Well, enjoy your meal. I think I'll spend my time right here, unless she has a friend?"

Kid winced, "All alone. She works for a newspaper, just came into town to cover the trial. Said it's the biggest thing to hit this area in years."

"She's a reporter? Kid…."

"Don't worry, she's only interested in reporting on the trial. With a little luck she'll want something else out of me." At that point, Kid noticed the glasses lined up in front of his friend. Beer was usually his drink of choice; whisky was reserved for either the poker table (and then it was taken slowly) or when something was wrong. "Everything okay?"

Heyes looked down at his glass; with a grin that he knew even the Kid could see through, he lied, "Yeah, fine. Job didn't pan out. I have another lead, but if that falls through I'll go out in a day or two with you. Maybe I might even find a pretty little damsel in distress myself."

"Sgt. Laferty, may I speak with you a moment."

Heyes grew rigid at the sound of the Sheriff at his back. Not sure how long he had been standing there, or what all he could have overheard, he slowly turned around. With one look at Kid, he knew it was not just the Sheriff that he would have to be explaining things to. "Yes sir?"

"Officer Jenkins wants to speak with you again. Says he has some new information about his case and that it can't wait until Sgt. Thomas arrives. Also, Judge should arrive in three days time. He's sent word that he wants to start the proceedings Friday. He doesn't think this whole trial should take more than a day, so we're looking at a Saturday hanging."

Remembering who he was **supposed** to be, he asked, "Isn't that a little rushed? Shouldn't we have a bit more time to get our case together; time to investigate a few more leads?" To his right, he could feel Kid's stare boring a hole into the back of his head.

"Sergeant, this town just lost two of its most beloved citizens. If we don't get this trial over and done with, I can't promise we won't have a lynch mob on our hands. You want to investigate, fine, I won't stop you, but you'll do it on your own time. If you find something concrete, let me know, but otherwise – three days time. But like I said, Jenkins wants to speak to you."

He knew he had to follow the Sheriff, but he also knew he had to give Kid some kind of answer, albeit, the truth wasn't exactly an option. "Yes sir, just let me pay my bill first, then I'll be right over." Turning, he quickly downed the latest of the glasses that the barkeep had steadily been supplying ever since he told him to _keep them coming._

Before he could even come up with a plan, Kid came down close to his ear. "I assume you are buying some time to explain." It was a statement, not a question.

Heyes looked back to check if the Sheriff had left, "Kid… I'm gonna need you to trust me."

Kid slowly nodded, "I guess it's a good thing I just signed my name on the hotel roster, instead of us both." Kid looked up at his friend, something was wrong. Something was really wrong, he could sense it. He also knew better than to push, if Heyes didn't want to talk, nothing he said could make him. But there was something different this time. They almost never changed aliases, and they never did it without telling the other. So that meant that Heyes had not planned on him finding out. This meant that the Sheriff spoiled Heyes' plan. The Sheriff… "Heyes, why are you involving yourself in that trial? I didn't recognize any of those men, did you?" Heyes looked up at him, but did not speak, "Is that it, is one of them someone we know? If they really killed that couple we can't get involved."

That was the out he needed, and God love Kid for giving it to him, "You're right, we can't get involved. But one of the men is the cousin of Long Bill. You remember him. Anyway, I'm not helping; I just went to say hi. They wouldn't let them have visitors, so I lied and said I was from the Army."

"And that's it?" Kid still was not convinced.

After laying some money on the bar, he turned and put a friendly arm around Kid's shoulders. "That's it. Look, don't worry; I'll go finish things up with Jenkins and you go clean up for dinner. No respectable damsel will want to be seen with you looking like that." Kid looked down at his dust covered shirt and pants, then back up at Heyes. With a chuckle, he agreed. Kid then finished his beer and together they walked out of the saloon. Kid made his way back to the hotel, while Heyes diverted his attention towards the jail. As he approached, he noticed that Jenkins stood at the window, staring at him as he walked up.

Once inside, he handed off his gun and holster, and followed the Sheriff back to the cells. The other two men continued to play their hands, but watched as he made his way to the other cell. Heyes could not help but wonder what Jenkins told them after his last visit. Once the Sheriff left, he walked to the cell door, with his arms clasped behind him, "You wanted to see me?"

Jenkins smiled, a genuine smile and Heyes saw the change in his eyes. _The caged animal is ready to strike_ , he thought.

Confidently Jenkins walked up to the door to the cell, "You know, you had me scared, real scared." He paused, waiting for a response that Heyes refused to give. "I remember that house, I remember that raid. Haunted me… for years. But after awhile, I started to forget, move on… I told you I changed." Still, no response. "Then, just a few years ago, I was travelling through Kansas and I picked up the Kansas City Tribune. They were running this big story on the history of the War and the sufferings of the Kansas people. One of the things they detailed was the Army raids, and guess which one caught my eye…?" Though Heyes spoke not a word, his eyes darkened. "They talked about what they called the Massacre at Little Hill. They described the scene to perfection. I could once again hear the sounds of the women screaming and the sound of the blood as it fell to the floor…" Heyes tightened his hands behind him, desperately trying not to betray the rage that was building inside. "But do you know what the most interesting part was? They interviewed one of the locals that lived there at the time, some old woman. She spoke about the family and how it was that _massacre_ that she felt was responsible for two of the most notorious outlaws in the history of the west. Interesting stuff, huh?" Again, Heyes remained silent; he knew that he needed all of the facts before he could determine what to do next. "And isn't it a coincidence that you eerily match the description of Hannibal Heyes? What's even more interesting is that the fella that you walked out of the saloon with, just now, also closely resembles Kid Curry? So, tell me, Mr. Heyes, where do we go from here?"

Not giving in, but also knowing that he was stuck, Heyes walked to the cell door and placed both hands on the bars. With a dark smile he said, "I leave this jail and go get my friend and we leave town. On my way out I will tell Sheriff Sizemore that you were in here talking crazy, it will take him at least an hour to be convinced to even give me a slanted look, by then we will be **long** gone."

With that, he turned and started back towards the door, Jenkins voice stopped him, "Except, _**sir**_ , you won't." Maintaining tight control he turned back to address the man. "You see, your friend out there didn't seem too upset a few minutes ago. Surprising, I would think, considering the man that slit the throat of his mother sat less than 50 feet away." Heyes drew in a deep breath, trying not to recall the sight of Kid's Ma lying in her own den in a pool of blood. "The way I figure it is, he doesn't know, 'cause if reputation stands, he would have already been in here, guns blazing, taking out his own style of revenge."

Heyes had to give the man credit, he was right, if Kid knew… if he found out, there was no doubt that he would be in there, ready to dispense justice. Heyes also knew that even if Kid was able to get in, he wouldn't get out, not alive anyway. "You're right, he doesn't know." Jenkins smiled, but Heyes continued, "But it doesn't matter, you see, we're going to be leaving today and by the end of the weekend you'll be six foot under and Kid will never be the wiser."

Jenkins laughed, "Except, he will. You see, from what I understand, this trial is going to get a bit of attention. **Quite** a bit. If you don't help us and we are sentenced to hang I will be more than happy to give an exclusive interview to the first reporter that comes by. I'm sure that by the time I tell them of my role in influencing the two most notorious outlaws of the west… well, you can only imagine what kind of national attention that might get. Tell me, Heyes, how forgiving is your friend? Will he forgive you for robbing him of the chance to face down the man that killed his parents?" Heyes clenched his hands behind of him, "Will he forgive you for confronting me while he went about his own way? Will he forgive you for not being man enough to kill me yourself?"

Through gritted teeth, Heyes replied, "Perhaps I'll go tell him who you are now."

"Then, last question, could you then forgive yourself after he is shot down as he attempts to murder an unarmed man?"

Rage overwhelmed Heyes as he rushed the cell, he grabbed the man by the shirt and forced him, face first, into the bars, " **That** will never happen."

Jenkins roared with laughter, which only made Heyes tighten his grip, "Good, we are in agreement then. You cannot both keep the truth from your friend and watch as I die. The only choice you have left is to help me."

"When Hell freezes over." He pushed the man away.

"Then find your heaviest coat, because it's about to get real cold in here." Jenkins stepped back. "This is what you will do, Heyes: There is a farmer, Joseph Miller, he's on his way to Cheyenne with his herd of cattle. Like I told you earlier, my friends and I have been working on his farm for the past couple of weeks. Anyway, **you** are going to ride out to find him. Once you do, you are to get an affidavit of our alibi and bring it back here. At which point, we will go our way and you and your friend can go yours. The law will be no more the wiser of your crimes than they will be of mine. Plus, your friend can remain blissfully in the dark about your own duplicity."

"Why don't you just give the Sheriff this information, have him get word to Cheyenne and have them investigate?"

"We did. Apparently the Jacksons were close friends of his. He's more interested in vigilante justice than the truth." Jenkins smiled, wide, "Besides, your reputation states that you never killed anyone, this way you will even be able to save the lives of two innocent men."

"Save two innocent men, and let one guilty one free." Heyes seethed.

The gray eyes stared, cold. "Life is about trade-offs, Heyes."

Heyes gripped the bars tightly, unsure of what to do. He needed time, so through gritted teeth he asked, "Where did you say I could find this man?"

Heyes sat on the balcony overlooking the street and turned over in his mind all of the options available to him.

He could tell Kid the truth: the man sitting in jail is the same man that killed their parents and ruined their lives. Kid would get angry, no, enraged. Would he have the strength to keep his friend from doing the very thing that he wanted to do himself? Would Kid be able to forgive him for taking almost 24 hours to even tell him? If he was able to keep Kid from committing murder there wasn't any guarantee that Jenkins wouldn't tell the Sheriff who they were. There was just as good a chance that the two of them could end up sharing a cell next to him.

He could lie to the Kid and tell him that someone spotted them and that they needed to get out of town, fast. That was the most appealing of the options. But it carried its own share of risks. Jenkins would make good on his threat. Even if he could keep the truth from the Kid for awhile, it would eventually come out. At that point, would Kid forgive him for concealing the truth?

He could do as Jenkins demanded, and work to get him acquitted. He could leave out the next morning and go find Miller. He could get the affidavit and be back in time by the end of the trial. He would then continue with the lie that Jenkins was Long Bill's cousin, but then he would have to watch as Jenkins walked free. Even with this scenario, there was no promise that he wouldn't alert the law to who he and the Kid really were. Or worse, he could come after them and decide to take them in dead, instead of alive.

Or, there was the final option. Pretend to help. Let Jenkins believe that he was doing all he could to get them acquitted, but in reality do nothing. This plan had the most risks. He would have to continue to conceal from Kid his motives. Plus, he'd be running the risk of Jenkins finding out and, again, alerting the law. Worst of all, the other two men. According to Jenkins, they were innocent. He had no way to know that for certain; all he had was Jenkins' assertions that they were. Even if they were, he tried to convince himself that just because they might not have committed this crime, did not mean they had not killed in the past. But the fact is, he wasn't sure and who was he to pass judgment on someone just based on the company they kept? He and the Kid had faced that same type of judgment in the past and knew how wrong it could be. Plus, he had always been proud of the fact that he had never killed anyone. Would letting two possibly innocent men die, when he could stop it, make him partially responsible? Was he ready to cross that line? Would Kid forgive him if he ever found out? Hell, would he be able to forgive himself?

He just was not sure. For all of his adult life he had been a gambler, but never before did he have so much to lose on one bet.

Down on the street people were coming out of the restaurant. Quickly, he spotted his friend; he was wearing his typical gray suit and hat. On Kid's right arm hung a young woman. He couldn't get a good look at her; all he could tell was that she was small in stature. The main thing he noticed was Kid. As they walked he kept looking down at her and smiling. As they were constantly dodging the law, it was not often that he saw his friend smile, not like that anyway. He did not want to be the reason that he stopped; his friend deserved happiness. Knowing the truth about the man in jail would end that and letting that same man go would do the same. So, making up his mind, he started to formulate a plan.

The next morning came early. Needing to be at the ranch before the sun rose, Kid was in the restaurant eating breakfast before Heyes woke up. Kid was just finishing up when he saw his friend enter the room. "I was wondering if you planned on ever getting up. Us workin' folk have to be up a bit earlier."

Heyes tried to smile but was unsuccessful; instead, he just sat down, "Didn't get much rest last night."

"I noticed. When I came in you were tossin' and turnin', kept muttering something about farmers and the sheriff. Hate to break it to ya, but robbin' farmers ain't that lucrative of a career."

Heyes nervously laughed, "I'll keep that in mind. Looked like you had a good night."

Kid smiled, "You could say that. We took a stroll over to the river. Just sat and talked."

"Right…just talked. This is coming from a man who 'just talked' with a girl from the saloon two nights ago."

"Heyes, this one's different. Not that I would mind doing a little more than talk."

"Just a little more?" Heyes ribbed his friend.

"Well…"

"Yeah, well, be careful. If she gets even the slightest clue about you and me…"

"Heyes, she won't."

"Good. Besides, she'll probably head back home after the trial, won't she?"

Kid looked down at his plate, "Probably."

"Oh, by the way, I need to go out of town for a few days."

"Why?"

"I have to deliver some papers out of town. It shouldn't take me more than a couple of days. I'll be back Friday evening, Saturday morning, at the latest."

Kid was suspicious, "And who exactly hired you for this job?"

"Just a fella I met at the saloon last night."

Heyes would not meet Kid's eyes and Kid knew he was not being told the truth. "And what's this fella's name?"

Heyes signaled to the waitress, "Johnson, Henry Johnson, real likeable fella." He addressed the waitress, "Yes, I'd like your breakfast special."

Kid watched as the waitress walked away. For over a day now something had been going on with Heyes and he was tired of not knowing what. "Heyes, what's this job about?"

"I told you, just delivering some papers. Would you quit your worrying? Besides, you never have told me how your job is going."

"I don't want to talk about my job. I want to talk about you and what has gotten in to you."

"I don't know…"

"Like hell you don't." Kid slammed his hand on the table just as the waitress behind him made a loud gasp. Obviously offended with his language, she placed Heyes' meal in front of him and quickly walked away.

"Thanks Kid, now we won't see her again until she brings us the check."

Kid's anger began to grow. "I don't care about the waitress. All I know is you ain't been yourself lately."

"I don't know what you mean." Heyes started eating, quickly.

"Tell me, when was the last time we changed aliases?"

"I don't know…"

"Exactly and when was the last time we took separate jobs when we didn't have to? You're lying about something and I want to know what, and I want to know now."

Heyes swallowed, "Kid, you're right, I am keeping something from you."

Kid breathed a little easier, "Alright, good, what is it?"

"It's you and that girl. I saw you two walking together last night. With her leavin' town soon…I just thought if I'd back off a bit, give you two some breathin' room…"

Before he could finish, Kid stood up and threw down his napkin. "That silver tongue might work on someone else, but not on me." With that, he walked out of the room.

By the time Kid returned for the day, Heyes had already left. He did not like parting on choice words, but he had no doubt that Heyes was hiding something. And something in the pit of his gut told him it was something big, something serious. As he came out of the livery stable he saw Sarah coming away from the Sheriff's office. After getting her attention with a small wave, she immediately met him half-way. She was about average height, small, but not stick-thin either. She had long dark hair that she had tied in a braid and amazing eyes; eyes that Kid could not help but get lost in.

"How was your day?"

Kid smiled, "Long, hot, dusty. How about yours? Any luck at the Sheriff's office?" She had mentioned the night before that she wanted to interview the men in custody.

"No, no luck. No visitors until after the trial. They're afraid someone might attempt a jailbreak. So, any plans for the evening?"

Kid thought about Heyes, and about how he probably would not be back until the next day. "No, no plans, unless you would like to meet for dinner?"

"Sounds good, I'll see you in an hour."

Later that evening, after a delicious steak and potatoes dinner, Kid took Sarah for another long walk. She mainly spoke of how exciting the trial was going to be and how she was sure this would gain her front page status. "You should sit in on it with me."

"I think I'll pass. The last place I want to be is in front of a judge."

"Oh, why is that?"

Realizing his mistake, he tried to cover, "Oh, uh. It's just the men accused, Union officers; I don't have any use for them."

"Why?"

Kid's neck started to feel warm, he had known better than to court a journalist, now he remembered why. "Well… it's just my parents were killed during the war from a raid. Ever since then… just haven't had much interest in the army." Kid attempted to change the subject, "How about you, did you grow up around here?"

"Not too far from here, in southern Wyoming. My father was a minister of a small church. I've spent over half my life in this area."

"You were lucky to escape the war. Not that you would have been old enough to remember it. What took you into reporting anyways?"

She smiled, "The quest for the truth. It's a consequence of being a minister's daughter. We were always so devoted to spreading the truth about Christ to the people, but I wanted to learn new truths, the truth about places and events. Truth about people and who they are and why they do the things they do. That is what fascinates me. For instance, this trial: according to the Sheriff a band of men were seen running from the house. Yet, only three men were captured; each of the men claim to be innocent."

"What else would they say? Murder's a hangin' offense."

"True, but then there are the horses."

"What about them?"

"According to the witnesses, the horses were all dark in color, but I went over to the livery, the horses they were brought in on were all a light tan."

"Wasn't it early in the morning? How could they really tell the color of the horses?"

"That's true, but then I spoke to the deputy. He told me that a retired Army Rep had visited the men and that, according to one of the men, was working to help clear their names."

Kid shifted uneasily at the revelation. Heyes was getting involved. He was putting himself in the middle of a situation that could easily land the two of them in jail. The worst part of it all, Heyes didn't feel that he could trust his partner with the truth. Kid tried not to show the frustration that was building, "Well, what is so suspicious about someone from the Army trying to help?"

"My father's best friend was a Union Rep, I've seen first hand what happens when one of their own go on trial. They might delay the trial by filing motions and using the system to give them more time to investigate, but they almost always at least try to gain the cooperation of the Sheriff. After all, the army wants to know the truth just as badly as the local law. It's not like the territory versus an average citizen. The Sheriff and the Army are on the same side, legally, at least. Army lawyers don't ride off on their own. There is just something not adding up."

"Well, perhaps he did go to the Sheriff for help. Perhaps the Sheriff is just a bit too convinced of their guilt. Perhaps this fella is determined to find out the truth, just like you are." Hoping to distract her, Kid came down and placed a light kiss on her lips.

As he pulled back, she smiled. "Okay, perhaps, but still…"

Before she could say another word Kid pulled her close and kissed her once more.

Inside the hotel room, Kid walked to the balcony. Tried as he may, he could not stop thinking about Heyes. Looking down, he noticed the light inside the jail and the shadow of the man within. He was not certain how he felt about him. After years of hate and resentment, he had grown tired of getting angry every time he saw one of them. Heyes had always preached that he needed to let go of the past, but that was always easier said than done- for him. Heyes, on the other hand, seemed eager to let go the minute he could. Kid thought back to the day it happened; the day Heyes sent him to their neighbor's; the day his world ended. Heyes never told him exactly what happened on their farm, only that both their folks had been killed. Within days of the burials, the two of them had been sent to Valparaiso Home for Wayward Boys, and Sally had been placed with a couple from upper Kansas. Neither of them ever spoke about the specifics of what happened. Not that Kid didn't want to know; just that Heyes was not willing to say. Whenever he would ask, Heyes would state, in no uncertain terms, that it was over and there was no point in talking about it. Even the mention of returning to their farm, which for all Kid knew they still technically owned, was immediately rebuffed. Heyes wanted nothing to do with the past. Even then, Kid knew that whatever Heyes saw tormented him. That was why he even let Heyes call him Kid and he, in turn started calling his best-friend by his last name. At Valparaiso, they quickly realized that confinement to that home would never suit the two of them and by the time they were fifteen, they had run away. For a year or two, they travelled together, but even each other's company was too much of a reminder. By the time Heyes turned seventeen, they had gone their separate ways. Kid traveled out east, and Heyes went west, eventually meeting up with and joining the Plumber gang. Several years later, they reconnected at Devil's Hole. Heyes had just gained leadership after Big Jim was arrested and since Kid already had $500 on his head (compared to Heyes' $600), they decided to join forces. In the seventeen years since the raid, they had only the briefest conversations about life before Valparaiso. Each chose to look forward and they rarely, if ever, looked back.

Wrapped in only a bed sheet, Sarah walked up and put an arm around Kids bare chest. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Kid smiled, "Oh, it's worth a lot more than a penny." He turned and took her into his embrace, coming down with a passionate kiss.

When he pulled away, she smiled, "That still doesn't get you off the hook…"

He kissed her again and lied, "You asked what I was thinking, I was just showing you instead of describing it." He enjoyed having her in his arms. With her it was more than just passion and sex, she was smart and engaging. She fit in his arms, and if he was honest with himself, she was beginning to fit just as well in his heart. And, God, he loved the feel of her. She felt warm like a summer day. The day he had been waiting for all winter long; the day he knew would last only a short time. The day he knew he would miss, once it was gone.

That Friday was busy with activity. The town's people were right; the trial was the biggest thing to hit the area in years. Three newspapers had turned out to report on it and Sarah made sure that she was on the front row. Much to Kid's dislike, his employer had given the ranch hands the rest of the week off to watch the trial. Without any excuse, he sat beside her as the trial unfolded. As he watched, he could not help but agree that the prosecution did not have much to go on. The eyewitnesses could not identify the three men as the murderers with complete certainty. They did, however give very convincing testimony that the men they saw matched the body types of the men accused. The most damning evidence was the guns; they matched the bullets that came out of the victim's bodies. Without anyone else being able to testify seeing any other Army personnel in the area, it was a hard point to refute. Plus, the Army lawyer was young and inexperienced. Kid felt confident that even Heyes, who only had a slight knowledge of criminal law, could do a better job representing them. Heck, from what he could tell even Sarah could do better. After the prosecution finished up, the defense did not even call a single witness. Instead he merely repeated the lack of clarity from the witnesses and that these were Union soldiers that had sacrificed years of their lives for everyone's freedom. By the time the jury returned, Kid was not in the least bit surprised by the guilty verdict.

Leaving the courthouse with Sarah on his arm, he was stopped by the telegrapher. "You're Mr. Jones, right?"

"Yes sir."

He handed him a folded piece of paper, "For you, from a Mr. Smith."

"Thank you."

Before the man could walk around her, Sarah grabbed his arm, "I see you have another telegraph, it doesn't, by chance, involve the trial, does it?"

"Well, ma'am… that's private information."

"Oh, come now, nothing you, me, and my friend couldn't keep to ourselves." Slyly, she slipped the man, what Kid immediately recognized as, a hundred dollar bill.

The man drew close and whispered, "Well, ma'am, you didn't hear this from me, but Sgt. Laferty sent word to one of the accused, Jenkins, that he will arrive tomorrow in the AM with the news he was wanting. Also said and that he kept his end of the bargain, so Jenkins had better keep his."

"Interesting… and don't worry, I didn't hear a thing." Seductively, she winked as she let the man pass. Walking arm-in-arm with Kid, they continued to the restaurant. "I wonder what that is all about."

Annoyed, Kid tried to shrug it off, "Doesn't really matter now, does it? After all, the verdict is in and those boys are going to hang at noon tomorrow. Can't see what this Laferty fella might have that could change that, otherwise the telegraph would be going to the Sheriff, not Jenkins."

"True, but I wonder what kind of bargain the two of them could have had. Again, very fishy behavior for someone that is supposed to be a Military Rep. I just hope he isn't trying anything illegal, like a jailbreak."

Kid had a sinking feeling in his stomach, _Heyes wouldn't… would he?_

As soon as Sarah excused herself for the evening, Kid opened the telegraph from Heyes, it read, "Finishing up here. Will be back in town earlier than expected. Prepare to leave upon my arrival."

Kid had hoped to feel better about the situation with the telegraph, instead, he felt worse.

The next morning, the town was in full fan-fare. _There's nothing like a good hanging to get people to celebrate_ , Kid thought. He could not help but notice that the events reminded him more of the Fourth of July than an execution. At the end of town, they had quickly built a gallows over the past week. As Kid walked around, he kept an eye out for both Heyes and Sarah, neither one appeared.

As noon drew closer, the crowd started to become denser from people coming in to see the hanging. It became difficult to see who might be coming or going. In an attempt to get a better view, he positioned himself on the outside edge of the crowd. He was not sure why he was there, instead of in the saloon, other than to keep an eye out for Sarah and Heyes.

The morning wore on and still no sign of either of them. Nine o'clock, ten o'clock, eleven o'clock. If there was nothin' he hated more, it was waiting. By 11:30, he was sure that neither would show. Promptly at a quarter till noon the Sheriff brought out the condemn men. The lead man, Jenkins, looked about wildly. For what, Kid had no idea. As he stood upon the platform, the judge read off the charges of murder and the court order that the men be hanged. The judge offered the man a chance to speak and all he had to say was, "I've said my piece, I have nothing more to say."

Considering the man had not said a word in court, Kid wondered what exactly he meant. As the noose was placed around Jenkins' neck, Kid heard his friend walk up beside him. Not looking back, he asked, "Able to get those **papers** delivered?"

"Yes, everything has been taken care of."

Jenkins found Heyes in the crowd just before the latch was released and the trap door fell away. Kid was sure he saw a flash of anger in the man's eyes, but then he fell and with a loud _crack_ Kid knew the man had gone on to whatever Heavenly reward awaited him. The crowd came alive with excitement.

Unmoved, Heyes tugged at his arm, "Alright Kid, let's go."

As they moved towards their horses, they heard the sounds of the gallows twice again opening up to greet its victims. And with each, they heard the blood-thirsty roar of the crowd.

They moved in silence as they left town. Kid wanted answers, but knew he needed to get somewhere private to demand them. Heyes, on the other hand, knew Kid needed answers and still was not quite sure what to tell him.

They had barely been ten minutes into their ride when the first shot hit the ground in front of Heyes' horse. Startled, the horse jumped back, but did not throw its rider. Then there was a second shot, this time aimed at Kid's. In a flash, both men had their guns drawn and ready. Their eyes searched the area, trying to find their unknown assailant.

"Throw your guns over to your left, boys, nice and easy like." It was a feminine voice, but one Heyes did not recognize. Not wanting to tangle with a threat they could not see, they complied with the demands. "Now, if you wouldn't mind getting off of your horses; walk to the center of the path." Again, they quietly obeyed.

From behind some trees came a woman. She was neither short nor exceptionally tall. She was thin, but still of a healthy size. Her dark brown hair tumbled over her left shoulder. She wore a dark tan riding outfit, and a gun belt worn low, and tied down.

"Sarah? What are you… I looked for you this morning."

But Kid's words fell on deaf ears as she re-holstered her gun and took a run at Heyes. The force of her impact pushed him back a few steps. "You're a disgrace!" Kid immediately jumped to his friend's defense and tried to restrain her. "You're a disgrace to our Ma; you're a disgrace to our family; and you are a disgrace to me!"

Their brown eyes met and no longer did Heyes see an angry young woman, instead he saw the eyes of his seven year old sister. With barely a whisper, he asked, "Sally?"

"Don't you dare call me that!"

Kid intervened; he released her and took a stand between her and Heyes. Unsure of what exactly was happening, he asked. "You can't be Sally. You said your father was a minister; you said you grew up in Wyoming."

Sarah laughed through the tears that had already started streaming down her face, "My **adopted** father was a minister. He moved my mother and me to Wyoming just before the end of the War." Her dark gaze then fell on Heyes, "When you started to make a name for yourself I decide to rid myself of mine. That was when I took on my new name—Sarah. I didn't want anyone ever connecting me with you."

Heyes took a step back to a nearby tree and leaned against it for strength. "Sal—Sarah, I'm sorry."

"Save it, _brother._ The last thing I want is your apologies."

Kid walked closer to her, "Sarah, I don't understand."

"Of course _you_ don't." She looked back towards Heyes, "He's kept you in the dark, hasn't he?"

Horrified, Heyes looked up.

"In the dark about what?"

Sarah slowly walked toward Heyes, "About the Union officers. You were the Army Rep, weren't you?" Heyes tried to look her in the eyes, but found that he couldn't. "After their convictions, they offered an exclusive on their story and gave it to me. Granted, the minute he walked into the courthouse yesterday, I already knew enough."

Kid stood directly behind her, with his hands on her shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to tell him, or shall I?"

Heyes swallowed, hard, "Kid, I wanted to tell you, but I wasn't sure how you'd react. You get riled up at the sight of a regular officer, if you knew who he was…"

Kid's anger began to grow as he moved around Sarah and toward Heyes, "Who were they Heyes?"

"Kid, you'd gotten past it…"

His voice grew louder, "Who were they Heyes?"

"…you'd moved on."

"Who were they Heyes!"

"Kid… back in Kansas…"

Before he could finish, Kid landed a punch square on Heyes' jaw, knocking him down. Seething, he walked back to his horse; he held on to the saddle horn for the support that he desperately needed. Rubbing his sore jaw, Heyes stood, focused instead on the woman that still stood before him. "You said you knew at the trial, how?"

"How do you think? I was there remember."

"You were hiding in the shed."

She gave a faint laugh, "Right. I ran to the shed, after I saw them rape our mother, after he came after me." She quickly turned away, trying to hold in the tears that the memory of that day brought.

Heyes reached out to her, wanting to protect her, just as he did all those years ago. Instead, she rebuffed any attempt at consolation from him. Kid, however, went to her and she accepted his embrace. Kid smoothed her hair and held her tight. Looking at his friend, he calmly pressed, "Heyes, what happened this week? The truth, I think we both deserve that."

Heyes looked at the ground. "I confronted him about Kansas. After that, he knew who we were. He threatened to tell his story about what happened to our folks if I didn't help him get acquitted. I couldn't run the risk of you finding out, of you barging into that jail to get back at him. So… I pretended to go talk to the man they worked for last week. I kept sending him telegraphs… I had hoped that would keep him quiet until I returned."

"It didn't." Sarah meekly looked up from Kid's chest. "He just didn't realize who he was talking to."

Kid tipped her chin up towards him, "But you knew already. You knew who he was."

"I had to face him, knowing that he couldn't he couldn't hurt me this time. And then, I let him confess. That was when I figured out what you had done." She stared straight at Heyes. "We're they guilty? Of this murder, I mean. Did they do it?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to know. So, I never saw the man they worked for, I never found out."

"So the other men, they could have been innocent and you could have saved them. But you didn't, because to keep him in jail, you would have had to admit who you were. You would sacrifice the lives of two men, just to keep yourself out of prison."

Heyes just looked down.

"You are not my brother anymore." With that, she broke away from Kid's arms and walked back to her own horse.

Kid, trailing behind, turned her to face him, "Sarah, when did you know. When did you figure out that I was Jed Curry?"

She smiled and softly cupped his face in her hand, "The day you rescued me; the moment you took my hand and looked me in the eye."

Kid came down and placed the lightest kiss on her lips. He then helped her on her horse and watched as she galloped out of sight. He then turned, picked up his gun from where he had tossed it, and mounted his own horse. Looking down at his solemn friend, he asked, "You comin'?"

Together, they rode in silence into Rock Creek, WY. Heyes wasn't sure what to make of Kid's behavior. But Kid hadn't told him to go away, and for that, he was grateful. Inside the saloon, they immediately ordered themselves two whiskeys, and leaned against the bar. After a few minutes of silence, Kid broke the silence, "You were right."

Surprised, Heyes looked up him, "I was?"

"Yep. If I'da known… nothin' would have stopped me from finishin' what he started."

"Yeah, and to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I would have honestly tried to stop you."

"We let 'em do it. They took our folks, but we let them destroy the three of us."

"That's kind of profound, Kid. But I'd say you're right." Heyes put down his half filled drink and looked straight ahead, "I have to ask, you and Sally…"

"Heyes… there are just some things that you don't want to know."

Heyes sighed, "You gonna be alright down here? If you don't mind, I'd like to go ahead and turn in."

With a smile and a glance that only Heyes would understand, "I'll be fine."

Kid watched as his best-friend, his partner, left the saloon for the hotel. They knew each other, almost better than they knew themselves. As angry as he had been, Kid understood why Heyes had lied, and if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he would have done the exact same if he'd been in Heyes' boots.

Looking down at his now empty glass, he thought about Sarah. He had grown to care about her, more than he wanted to admit. He wondered what would have happened had their folks lived. Would she have been like a sister to him, just as Heyes has been a brother? Or would she have grown into something else? Something more similar to what he had experienced over the past few days? He couldn't change the past, but he could do something about the future. He could get his amnesty and then, one day, find her. Perhaps then, the three of them would finally heal the wounds from their childhoods. With that, he smiled.

Heyes stood out on the balcony just looking out into the stars. In twelve hours he had both found and lost his only sister. As much as he did not want to admit it, she was right; he had disgraced their family by becoming an outlaw. But that was one thing he could change. He could get the amnesty and someday, make her proud of him again. Coming back into the room he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Placing it in the wash basin, he stared at it for a moment. Then, taking a match, he lit the bottom corner of it and watched it burn. _After this, no more lies_ , he quietly told himself. Before it burned, he read it again:

I, Joseph Miller, do solemnly swear that from April 12 to April 25, Officers Jenkins, Crowley and James were in my employ and were living on my ranch. They were honorable young men and I feel confident that they are innocent of the crimes to which they are accused. Not once did I witness them raise an angry hand; drink a sinful drink; or even say a word unfit for polite company. However, they left my property early on April 26th and I can not say, with absolute certainty that they were not in the area of the Jackson home, as I was not with them. However, I do hope that you will take my characterization of the men into account as you determine their guilt or innocence.

Signed: Joseph Miller

Witness: Thomas Leroy, Mayor

Witness: Sgt. Joshua Laftery, Army Representative (Ret.)


End file.
